


New Heralds

by squirenonny



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: 31 Days of Sadfic, CFSWF, Multi, WoR spoilers, post-book 5, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen years is a long time.</p><p>Written for CFSWF 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oathpact

Roshar was dying. They all saw it.

The Windrunner, with a soldier’s eye on the battlefield and a surgeon’s finger to the world’s pulse.

The Dustbringer, intimately acquainted with destruction, the duelist who could read an opponent after one exchange.

The Lightweaver, the spy, with a sharp mind and a sharp tongue who could no longer put an optimistic spin on this war.

The Truthwatcher, who saw death etched in every contour of his world.

Odium was too strong. Stronger by far than the New Radiants. They were growing, but not fast enough; fewer than two dozen Knights, half of them children or hardly more. With Honor dead and Cultivation running, mankind stood alone and outmatched.

If things continued as they were, the Desolation would consume Roshar within the year.

* * *

Shallan found the first hint, a passing mention in an ancient text she was translating from the Dawnchant. The Heralds, a prison, a world called Braize that sounded like Vorin teachings about Damnation.

Desperation’s gambit.

She kept it from the other Radiants, even Dalinar, even Jasnah. He would never allow it, and she would more than consider it. She would research, ever the Veristitalian, and whatever she found would make the nightmare real.

Shallan was not yet ready to take that step.

* * *

So she held it in, at least until Adolin overheard Taln mention that place. Braize.

Few people listened to the man, though he had grown more lucid since they’d freed him from Amaram’s clutches. Fewer still believe he was what he claimed—a Herald. Talenel’Elin.

Adolin believed, and found time to speak with the man. Mostly he sounded only hollow. Broken.

When he spoke of Braize, the fear in his voice—the _ache_ —brought a chill not even the Everstorm could match.

* * *

Renarin saw Braize in a vision. One single vision, more nebulous than the rest, though that might have been the pure, overwhelming _terror_ of it.

He woke shaking, unable to explain to his father, his brother, his captain why he felt so sick when he had written a single glyph a hundred times on the walls and floor around him: atita.

 _Hope_.

* * *

They did go to Jasnah then, and laid out their plan.

Braize had been Odium’s prison between Desolations. Taln had been there, and if he was to be believed, Odium had escaped.

If they could only find out how the Heralds had locked Odium away, they could buy themselves the time they needed to prepare.

They hadn’t imagined the Heralds had locked _themselves_ away along with Odium, but that didn’t change their plan. Odium _had_ to be restrained. It was worth any sacrifice.

It had taken ten, once, but Taln had done it alone this last time. They didn’t need to hold him for an epoch. Just ten, perhaps fifteen years. Three Knights Radiant would have to do. Three keepers, and one messenger to tell Dalinar what they had done— _after_ it was done.

Jasnah had not wanted to stay behind. She was the oldest, the most experienced. She should be the first to enter Braize. She gave up almost at once on making Adolin stay, and Shallan had learned too well to argue her point.

“At least let Renarin stay.”

“Why?” Renarin did not shout, but his voice was hard enough to keep Jasnah from interrupting. “I can’t fight. I can’t lead. I can’t negotiate. I heal and I foresee threats, yes, but Father won’t need either of those until Odium returns.”

“And us with him,” Shallan added.

Renarin nodded. “It has to be you Jasnah. You have knowledge they need. You can forge alliances that will give us a chance.”

That didn’t silence her protests, but it did make her focus more on making sure they had everything they needed to survive Damnation.

* * *

The Honorblades were kept deep in the heart of Urithiru in a chamber only a Radiant’s Blade could unlock. Four Honorblades out of ten. The rest were scattered across Roshar, stolen from Shinovar in the early days of the war.

One Kaladin had taken from the Assassin in White. One the King’s Wit had delivered, with a cryptic warning that lacked his usual levity. One Jasnah had recovered in Thaylenah. One Lift had brought with her to Urithiru. They didn’t know if the Honorblades were part of the Oathpact, or just a tool to survive Braize; either way, their odds were better if they held them.

Kaladin was there when they arrived, leaning against the wall inside the door, Szeth’s Honorblade in hand. “I’m coming with you,” he said without turning.

“Dalinar needs you,” Shallan said.

A flat stare. “So do you.” They all hear the truth underneath. _I can’t lose you, too._

“We decided on three.” Adolin’s voice wavered, betraying him.

Kaladin smiled. “Four Honorblades. Four Radiants.”

Renarin fingered the box in his pocket. “You don’t know what we have planned.”

“I know enough.” Kaladin leaned the Honorblade against his shoulder and faced them head-on. “You mean to trap Odium, and sacrifice yourselves. Don’t—” He held up a hand to quiet Shallan’s protest. “Syl overheard some. Jasnah filled me in on the rest. I know why you’re doing this—to protect Roshar from a threat we aren’t prepared to face… I get it. I do. We’ll do it together.”

* * *

There was no more arguing after that. All that remained was to renew the Oathpact.

They spoke the words on the roof of Urithiru, overlooking Roshar. From so high, little could be seen of the destruction. A broken peak here, a charred valley there. The whole world would look like that, if Odium had his way.

The four looked around, took a final breath of freedom, then drove the Honorblades into the stone to seal the Oathpact. To seal the door to their prison. But they would go together.

“Does this make us Heralds, do you suppose?” Shallan asked, as the Blades began to glow.

“That depends,” said Kaladin.

“On what?”

"Whether or not we survive.”


	2. Bondsmith

There was too much to do.

Rulers to meet with and persuade into an alliance. Armies to build and equip. Research to fund. Radiants to find and train. Ideals to rediscover.

Dalinar knew Jasnah had made the right decision. He was immensely grateful for her efforts in digging up the lost truths of the Oathpact, for finding a way to renew it. With Odium sealed away, even temporarily, Roshar had a chance at survival.

But knowing that didn’t make him hate her—or himself—any less.

Especially because he knew that he would have been more willing to accept the new Oathpact if the cost had been anyone else.

Adolin and Renarin, Dalinar’s own sons. For that reason alone Dalinar would have died in their place. Shallan, the woman who had first vindicated Dalinar’s urge to refound the Knights Radiants. Who had become his advisor, his spy, the second in command of the New Radiants. Captain Kaladin, who had saved Dalinar and his family and his men more times than he could count. Who found victory in the most hopeless of battles.

Dalinar had raged when he’d first heard. In all of Urithiru, only losing Navani, Elhokar, or Jasnah could have hurt as much. Maybe not even Jasnah, in those first days. His anger had cooled quickly, and he’d seen how much guilt she carried for sending them off to Braize, but part of him still blamed her for their fate.

Before five years had passed, he blamed himself more.

* * *

Time was scarce. Travel and negotiations took much of his time, for although the Desolation had touched every land, most of the other rulers wanted to ignore the danger. The more time passed without a new calamity, the harder it was to get them to take it seriously.

He didn’t have to do it alone. Jasnah visited nations too far from Oathgates for others to reach easily. Elhokar bent the Highprinces into shape and reached out to the other Vorin kingdoms. Sigzil, one of Kaladin’s men, proved invaluable, with his knowledge of foreign customs, with his even temper and his sharp mind.

Dalinar still had to use the Oathgates at least once a week. When he _was_ at Urithiru, he had even more responsibilities. Overseeing the training of new Radiants. Reviewing supplies and deployment and a hundred other logistical minutiae. Talking with Navani about her fabrials and their uses. Talking with Jasnah, on the rare occasion they both found themselves in Urithiru with a moment to breathe, about her discoveries regarding the Lost Radiants.

Somehow, in the midst of it all, he carved out time to learn from the Stormfather. Every day, if only for a few moments, they built their bond. The Stormfather was reluctant, but Dalinar did not yield. He would take hold of every advantage he could get while his sons rotted in Damnation.

He found the Words and he trained in his Surges. Navani helped him test his limits and reason out uses for his newfound talents. Jasnah supplied hints and conjectures from the past. The Stormfather added nothing much, and Dalinar doubted it was because he couldn’t remember.

It was Dalinar himself, however, who found the truth that proved his guilt.

He could dissolve the Oathpact, could bring his sons home, and Kaladin, and Shallan. From that moment forward, all their suffering rested on Dalinar’s shoulders.

Perhaps Jasnah knew. The book, _Words of Radiance_ , had passed from her to Shallan and then on to Dalinar, who listened to readings almost daily. Very likely Jasnah had caught the references to the Bondsmiths’ unique talents, especially after her extensive research on the Heralds and the Oath that sealed Odium away between Desolations.

He found it in a passage about Melishi and his fight against the Voidbringers. His plan had something to do with the Bondsmiths and their abilities. _It was related to the very nature of the Heralds and their divine duties,_ the book said, _an attribute the Bondsmiths alone could address._

It could have meant something else. They knew little of the Heralds, but surely they had duties other than the Oathpact.

The Stormfather had dashed that slim hope, once Dalinar finally coaxed an answer out of him. BONDSMITHS HAVE POWER OVER BINDINGS OF SPIRIT AND MIND, the spren said. THE OATHPACT IS NOT ABOVE THEIR INFLUENCE.

He sounded as disgruntled to admit it as Dalinar was to hear.

It changed nothing, in the end. There were still treaties to sign, armies to equip, Radiants—many of them even younger than Shallan—to train. Five years was not enough time to prepare for a Desolation.

According to Taln, it was not uncommon for the first Heralds to return twenty years or more before a Desolation.

Dalinar would not let it go that long. Neither could he afford reckless haste. He would dissolve the Oathpact as soon as Roshar could survive Odium’s return, and not a moment sooner.

Years passed. Dalinar forgave Jasnah for her part in the sacrifice, but he did not forgive himself. Every day he woke knowing he had the power to end it.

Every day, for fifteen years, he went to sleep knowing he had condemned his family to another day in Damnation.


End file.
